into side streets; block after block, until
he reached the Hyde Park bridge. He was tired and disheartened as he
turned back and wondered what he should do next. Then it occurred to
him that he had promised to meet Mr. Sharpman that night. Perhaps the
lawyer was still waiting for him. Perhaps, if he should appeal to him,
the lawyer would help him to find Rhyming Joe, and to make the truth
known before injustice should be done.

He turned his steps in the direction of Sharpman's office, reached
it finally, went up the little walk, tried to open the door, and
found it locked. The lights were out, the lawyer had gone. Ralph was
very tired, and he sat down on the door-step to rest and to try to
think. He felt that he had made every effort to find Rhyming Joe and
had failed. To-morrow the man would be gone. Sharpman would go to
Wilkesbarre. The evidence in the Burnham case would be closed. The
jury would come into court and declare that he, Ralph, was Robert
Burnham's son--and it would be all a lie. Oh, no! he could not let
that be done. His whole moral nature cried out against it. He must
see Sharpman to-night and beg him to put a stop to so unjust a cause.
To-morrow it might be too late. He rose and started down the walk to
find the lawyer's dwelling. But he did not know in which direction to
turn. A man was passing along the street, and Ralph accosted him:--

"Please, can you tell me where Mr. Sharpman lives?" he asked.

"I don't know anything about him," replied the man gruffly, starting
on.

In a minute another man came by, and Ralph repeated his question.

"I don't know where he does live, sonny," said the man, "but I know
where he would live if I had my choice as to his dwelling-place; he'd
reside in the county jail," and this man, too, passed on.

Ralph went back and sat down on the steps again.

The sky had become covered with clouds, no stars were visible, and it
was very dark.

What was to be done now? He had failed to find Rhyming Joe, he had
failed to find Lawyer Sharpman. The early morning train would carry
both of them beyond his reach. Suppose it should? Suppose the case at
Wilkesbarre should go on to its predicted end, and the jury should
bring in their expected verdict, what then?

Why, then the law would declare him to be Robert Burnham's son; the
title, the position, the fortune would all be his; Mrs. Burnham would
take him to her home, and lavish love and care upon him; all this
unless--unless